


Turn The Other Cheek

by chatnchew



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Neglect, Gen, Implied Relationships, Infidelity, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Past Infidelity, Past Relationship(s), Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 17:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13082091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatnchew/pseuds/chatnchew
Summary: “I know what you thought.” Mary’s words were sharp. She sipped her drink with pursed lips as if she had tasted something rancid. “He makes everyone think that I’m some kind of heartless shrew. The whore who’s screwing every man in Maple Bay. And you know what?” A laugh rose up from her, carrying no joy. “I decided to go along with it. He never knows what to do when the villain of his little story manifests. It’s the only way I can get back at him now. It’s the only way I can let him know that he can’t fuck me over and that I’ll just lie back and think of England.”--Mary has a little chat with her new neighbor.





	Turn The Other Cheek

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I wrote some time ago, when Dream Daddy was brand new and the fandom was still kind of forming. I don't know if anyone's written anything similar to this since I first started this work so any similarities to another fic are entirely coincidental. I haven't been active in the fandom in months myself! 
> 
> I almost didn't finish this, but I decided to go ahead and polish it up and publish it. I named the dadsona Dale just for convenience's sake (I didn't even name my own dadsona that, ha). 
> 
> This is certainly not my best work, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

_But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. - Matthew 5:39_

* * *

Mary had, until recently, been absent from her usual perch at Jim  & Kim's. But on a chance evening she was leaning up against the wooden bar counter, cradling what was likely her fourth glass of wine. 

The way her shoulders tensed made it clear to Dale that she had heard the involuntary draw of air he took in upon laying eyes on her. She did not move, perhaps was incapable of moving, when he took a seat on the stool next to her. She didn't make eye contact. 

Unwisely, Dale turned to speak to her. 

"...I'm sorry." Mary pulled a tight smile and turned to him with a look devoid of mirth. She finally swallowed the wine that she had sipped upon Dale's entrance. It went down rough. She responded. 

"That's the first thing Robert said to me too." Mary's smile faded and revealed a raw expression of exhaustion underneath. There was no reason to be offensive now. She had been warning him. The bittering agent of her harsh persona had been ineffective in keeping another person from being hurt. 

Dale turned his gaze to the bartop, biting his lower lip to keep a welt in his throat from manifesting as something unpleasant. Mary sighed. 

"I know how you feel. I've been through this more times than I…" She paused. "I've been through this before. But you know that now, don't you?" Mary let a silence grow. Her wine required another refill before she continued. 

"I know how Joseph is. I'm numb to it now." Her words were delivered with such a deliberate lack of passion that it was clear there was still a wound trying to scar in her heart. Just as there was in Dale's. Just as there was in Robert's. 

"I'm still sorry," Dale said. "I shouldn't have been like that with Joseph. I knew he was married to you. I just thought that—" 

"I know what you _thought_." Mary's words were sharp. She sipped her drink with pursed lips as if she had tasted something rancid. "He makes everyone think that I'm some kind of heartless shrew. The whore who's screwing every man in Maple Bay. And you know what?" A laugh rose up from her, carrying no joy. "I decided to go along with it. He never knows what to do when the villain of his little story manifests. It's the only way I can get back at him now. It's the only way I can let him know that he can't fuck me over and that I'll just lie back and think of England." 

Dale was silent once again— but now his mind was whirring. This was not a once or twice occurring thing. This was serial. He was mere notch on Joseph's belt. Just like Robert. Just like Mary. Just like whoever else. 

"Why does he do this?" Dale ran a hand through his hair and heaved a heavy sigh. "He's got to have a reason. Does he know that you know? Why would he just—" 

Mary cut him off. "I don't know. I wish I knew why. I wish he'd just tell me. That wouldn't fix it but— I wish he'd just tell me." True sorrow weighed her whole person at that point. Her wine glass was on the bar top. Her lips were blushed a deep red from the alcohol; her eyes were unfocused. But she was still painfully lucid. Nervous fingers twisted round and round the wedding band sitting pretty on her finger. 

"I thought he was a burglar, the first time he came home from… Being out." 

* * *

It was the middle of December; opening the front door was a noisy affair, as most of it was frosted over by the cold. It was the sound of falling icicles that made Mary rise. 

Her first waking thoughts turned to robbery. She did not notice the bed was occupied by only herself; the groove that Joseph's body filled had gone cold in her sleep, and she had unconsciously filled his absent space. Mary lept out of bed on light feet, grabbed the bat leaning against the nightstand, and proceeded slowly down the hall clad only in a tank and underwear. It didn't matter what she was wearing— what mattered was that whoever broke in didn't see her coming. 

The wood that lie beneath the carpeting of their floors creaked beneath her feet. Not audibly. Her movements were so slow, so deliberate that she could _feel_ the floor move beneath her. She could _feel_ the cold let in from the earlier entrance cut across her warm skin. She could _feel_ the old tape wrapped around the bat's handle for grip wilt under her clammy palms. 

The floor creaked in a spot much farther down the hall. Mary's breath stopped. Someone shuffled in the darkness. The sound of a thick winter coat and frost-nipped breath filled the silence. Mary felt her heart drop. They were right at Chris' door. Chris. Her baby. _Her baby._

**_Her baby._**

At the sound of the handle turning Mary let out a scream of blind, maternal rage. 

"Mary—?!" Joseph pulled down his scarf and held up his gloved hands in both fear and surprise. Mary's charge was halted. Her hair fell wildly in front of her eyes, partially obscuring her view. 

"...Joseph?" The bat fell to the floor with a dull thud. Mary wrapped her arms around her waist before taking a step forwards. "God, Joseph… You scared me. I thought you were some freak who broke into the—" 

The sound of crying behind Chris' door made both of them freeze. Without another word between the two they entered his nursery and made a beeline for his crib. Joseph was the first to reach it; he did not spare a moment of hesitation to lift his infant son into his arms and cradle him close to his chest. A few minutes of gentle murmuring and slow swaying had him asleep once more. 

Both Joseph and Mary were silent as they walked into their own bedroom. The door was closed gently. Mary took a seat on her side of the bed and rubbed her hands across her face. Joseph sat down beside her, wrapping a comforting arm around her pinched waist. 

It was in their new closeness that Mary noticed the oddities Joseph now carried. The fact that he was fully dressed at this hour was strange enough. But there was the smell clung to him that also raised her suspicion. He always tended to have the same scent— of soap and fabric softener. But a poignant cologne lingered on him now. Mary brushed aside her stray hairs and turned to look him in the eye. 

Joseph, for all his softness, was never one to balk under her intense gaze. He smiled faintly at her in turn. Mary's gaze fell back to her lap. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be gleaned by sight. 

"I just went out to clear my head a little," he said softly. "You know I was having some trouble with my program… I decided maybe a change of venue would better let the Lord inspire me." Mary nodded absently. She was so tired; posing any questions would have been an unnecessary use of energy. She was just thankful her son was alright. 

"Okay, hon," she mumbled. "That's fine. I'm sorry about… Freaking out on you. I just want to go back to sleep now, alright?" The arm around her waist disappeared. The scent of strange cologne went with it. Mary returned to her place under the sheets curled in a tight ball. 

_Don't worry about it. Don't **think** about it. _

* * *

"So _that's_ Mary Christiansen?" 

Mary turned her head slightly. There were whispers rising from a few pews behind where she sat with her husband and children. A pair of women were gossiping. Their faces were blocked by the other church-goers in front of them, but it was clear by their tone of voice they were more than disapproving. 

"Yeah. Brunette, wearing the black sweater? That's her." 

"Wow. She even looks like a bitch." 

Mary rolled her eyes. It was not a claim she hadn't heard tossed around before. Most tended to take one look at her and deem her an ice queen. Her attention was returned back to the Bible resting in her lap. 

"I can't believe she'd do that to her husband." 

"The Youth Minister? Joseph, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Ohmigod. She cheated on _him_? Of all people?" 

Her heart skipped a beat. That was new. Mary turned once again as she felt herself go a little limp. Who in God's name was claiming she was an adulterer? She loved Joseph. And she would never do something to potentially rob her children of a father. 

"What I can't believe is how she treats her children." 

"Her children?" 

"I mean… I just heard she just isn't there. Lets Joseph do all the work." 

"I can't believe it. A minister's wife? It's disgraceful." 

There was nothing more of note said between the two gossipers, but for the rest of the day Mary was left shaken. It was something she kept well hidden, however. Joseph could not see beyond her manufactured smiles and grace, and seemed to not notice her hand tremble in his grip. 

* * *

"Mary— Mary, where's Crish?" 

Mary was drunk out of her mind. It was only until Joseph was standing right in front of her, almost breathless and looking exasperated beyond belief, that she registered his question for the first time. With an undeserved calm, she set down her wine glass before answering him. 

"I don't know." Her words were delivered with a smirk that she just _knew_ would make his blood boil. 

"Mary," Joseph began, tone stressed, "Crish was here all day. How did he even leave the house?" The only response Mary graced his question with was a shrug. Instead of seeing the color drain from his face, however, the anger Joseph had been working to suppress multiplied. 

"I can't believe this," he snapped. His hands were thrown up in disbelief, in frustration. "You had one job to do: watch the kids. And you're so— so— so _incompetent_ you can't even do that!" 

Mary stood abruptly enough to make the room spin, but the look of surprise on Joseph's face was enough to keep her standing tall. 

"Is that all I am to you now? The nanny who watches your children?" she snapped. "Or am I the whore who's making you look so sympathetic to everyone? Or am I your fuckbuddy, when you want me to put out? Why am I never just your wife anymore, Joseph? What happened to that?" 

Joseph didn't respond. He stared her down with his stark blue eyes, his lips pressing into a firm line of disapproval. And he waited. And waited. 

It didn't take too long for Mary's headrush to make her crumple to the ground. 

"I'm going to go find Crish," he muttered. "It'd probably be for the best that you drink some water and lie down." 

Mary didn't move. She sank further into the rug of the living room floor and stained the nautical pattern with her tears. It did little to muffle her sobbing. 

* * *

"It's been so hard." Mary picked up her wine glass and finished off what remained in it. "He doesn't know that I know. I don't want to give him the satisfaction. I don't want to give him a single damn inch. But…" 

Dale didn't wait for her to finish her sentence. He understood. There was no Earthly way he could approve— but in a situation so fucked, there was really no pure action, was there? He finally ordered a beer for himself when Neil walked by once again. 

"I'm sorry he dragged you into his mess," Mary sighed. "I really tried to put you off. I guess I just didn't try hard enough." Dale shook his head. 

"It's not your fault. It's mine," he said. "It's his. It's both of ours. You had nothing to do with this." 

They were quiet for a long time. Mary sat in silence while Dale took his time finishing his beer. He was walking her home once again; it had been agreed on without words between them. Dale covered both of their tabs. 

Mary pulled a ghost of a smile, hooked her arm around his, and exited Jim & Kim's in tow with him. 


End file.
